A visit ‘Downtown’

Most of you music purists are going to groan at this column; some of you may even decide not to read it anymore because you’re going to be reviled at learning my music tastes.

You’ll be like one of my favorite students, Daniel Johnston, after he had retrieved something for me in my car.

He said, “Mrs. Kelly, I have always had utmost respect for you, but I may have changed my mind. You have a Mariah Carey CD in your front seat!”

Well, Daniel, and to the rest of you — to quote a common popular phrase, “It is what it is.”

Every generation seems to have its superstars— Frank Sinatra, Elvis, the Beatles, Michael Jackson.

They’re all OK, but for me, other lesser-known artists have been what has, for lack of a better phrase, “rocked my boat.”

I have always liked what’s called “soft rock.”

For many of you, my favorite artists will be too “bubble gummy” or sugary.

I did, however, draw the line myself at “Sugar Sugar,” and at the height of the “Honey” phase — “See the tree how big it grows, but friends, it hasn’t been too long, it’s just a twig,” I thought I’d strangle myself if I heard that song one more time.

But others—the Captain and Tenille, the Beach Boys, the Fifth Dimension, Cornelius Brothers and Sister Rose, the Doobie Brothers (they’re as edgy as I got), even the BeeGees, are my favorites.

But there is one artist who transcends them all— Petula Clark, or Pet Clark, as those of us “in the know” call her.

I first fell in love with “Pet” in seventh-grade when I was going to Kirkland Junior High.

“Downtown” was the rage that year, and whenever I had some setback—a bad grade, a party I didn’t get invited to, a boy who didn’t notice me — when I was alone and life was “making me lonely,” I could always go “Downtown.”

I’d imagine myself saucily walking down Fifth Avenue in Seattle, just listening “to the music of the traffic in the city,” lingering “on the sidewalk where the neon signs are busy— happy again.”

Pet sang, “The lights are much brighter there, you can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares and go “Downtown” —where are the lights are bright— “Downtown” —waiting for you tonight— “Downtown” —you’re gonna be all right “NOWWW.”

I don’t think I would have made it through seventh grade without her!

Now, you probably think I’m done with Petula.

Oh no. Next came her hit, “I Know a Place.”

“Everyday when the work is behind you and the shop and the store put the lock on the door. Just get away where your worries won’t find you. If you like, well, I’ll tell you MOOORE!”

My guess is you probably don’t want me telling you more right now.

Well, I won’t go into all of her songs, like “My Love,” “Color My World,” “A Sign of the Times,” and “Don’t Sleep in the Subway” to name just a few, but I will tell you about one of the highlights of my life.O

ne of the nice things about being a lesser-known artist fan is that they often now come to fairs and casinos in our area.

I took my son to see the Doobie Brothers at the Monroe Fair and my husband and I saw Tenille, of the “Captain and” at the Skagit Valley Casino.

And guess who else was there a couple years ago — Petula!

As soon as I heard she was coming, I thought I was going to die from excitement I remember it like yesterday. I was on my way to school and a radio advertisement announced the news, so I called Jerry (who had retired by then) and said, “You have to go to the casino NOW to get tickets,” and he did.

It was a dream come true.

When we walked into that showroom I felt I had found my people.

There was one woman from Canada, who was more overtly excited than I was (I can be quite shy), but I noticed that I knew far more lyrics than she did — like all of them.

I was in ecstasy when she came out on stage. She looked absolutely beautiful with long curly, blonde hair, in a slinky, sparkly black dress, and keep in mind--this lady is in her late 70s.

She sang all of her songs and then some.

She recited poetry, told stories, and even danced.

I sang. I wept. It was an experience to remember.

But the best part was the end.H

er fans were rushing the stage and my sisters, husband, and brothers-inlaw urged me to run up — and I did!

I put out my hand, and I have to tell you, it was like she was waiting for me.

She grabbed it and I grabbed hers, and she looked into my eyes, and I just said, “thank you.”

She nodded and said, “You’re welcome.”

I thought I had just looked into the eyes of a combination of Glinda the

0.9 Good Witch and the Snow Queen.

Truly, she was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my entire life.

The big generational music icons have left us now—Frank, Elvis, two Beatles, and Michael — and life goes on — but for me, I’m really lucky. Life goes on and Petula is still in it!